


This is Your Captain Speaking

by Asynca



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: AU, F/F, First Time, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-04
Updated: 2016-07-05
Packaged: 2018-07-21 13:57:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7389691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Asynca/pseuds/Asynca
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pilot AU: what if Overwatch was actually an Aviation Association? From Tracer's POV.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Speed prompt, written in 69 (heh) minutes.

* * *

"… _it's actually a pleasure to be delivering the weather for once! We're looking at a warm 21 Degrees Celsius with patchy cloud cover and North-Westerlies at a gentle 16 kilometres per hour. All in all, a nice day out! So get out of the bloody office for once, would you? Remind yourself what sunlight feels like and take the missus out for once. That's been today's forecast with BNR National, London's Premier Talkback Radio Station! And now, don't touch that dial, because have we got a show planned for you_ —"

I 'touched that dial', because I didn't actually need some old radio presenter to tell me what the weather was like: I could see the sunlight streaming in through the window of my little flat myself. It was _bee-youtiful_ outside, not the miserable sodding weather we usually enjoyed in London.

I could hardly believe my eyes, though: what a _top_ day for the maiden flight of the A448! I couldn't have imagined better weather for it. Knowing _my_ luck, I'd have expected I'd be I'd be landing the pouring bloody rain with cross-winds at 100kmph—I'd banked on it, actually. In _this_ weather, though, the plane would basically land itself without me, especially with the new landing system that had been developed since the 445. It was going to be _wicked_!

I rolled out from under my duvet and pulled on my uniform at the speed of light—maybe if I was lucky they'd let me poke around the A448 while it was being prepped?—and when I arrived at Gatwick there was yet another nice surprise for me: I spotted _Morrison_ in his full uniform and compact suitcase waiting by the counter!

Gosh, I hadn't seen him in _ages_ , what was _he_ doing here? Could that mean—? I didn't want to get my hopes up…

He gave me a big grin as the doors opened and I rushed up to him. "Hey, kid," he said gruffly, ruffling my hair (like it wasn't messy enough already!). "Guess who's your captain today?"

My chest _swelled up_ , I swear. So it _was_ true! "I thought Dupont was?"

He continued to grin. "Nope," he told me. "Dupont's been reassigned. You're stuck with me, I'm afraid."

 _'I'm afraid_ '? Morrison was basically my bloody _hero_ , he was the reason I was flying in the first place! " _Get out_!" I shout with excitement him, and then realised how loud I was being and quietened down. "It'll be just like old times!"

"Who are you calling 'old'?" he asked, and then chuckled. "And yep. You ready for media? Because there will be a stack of it after _you_ land."

I didn't miss how he'd said that: _you_. Dupont would have made me toe the line in terms of who did what in the cockpit, but Morrison wouldn't. He'd let _me_ do all the fun stuff; oh my _gosh_ this was going to be _bloody brilliant_!

"Who's the crew?" I wondered, thinking that I'd not had the chance to look at the list online since last night. There was a Polish girl I rather fancied who'd been temping as a stewardess, and since I was on a roll, I wondered if perhaps she'd be working on the same flight...? Probably not, though, because how many goals could I kick in one day?

"Crew info should be loaded already," he said, and gestured at the screen in the corner.

I abandoned my suitcase and went to check it out, my eyes running over the flight list. I couldn't see The Polish girl's name anywhere. There was a 'cancelled' tag on one of the other stewardess' rosters, though… could that mean someone had called in sick and there was a vacancy?

I was tabbing through the system looking for who'd replaced her, and just as the name came up on the screen, a very smooth voice said behind me, "Whose name are you looking for, _chérie_?"

 _No_ …

My skin _prickled_ , and I hurriedly exited the menu before she could read that it was her own: _Amélie Lacroix._ Of course it would _her_ who filled in, not the cute Polish girl… "Not yours!" I said as I spun towards her.

She was much taller than me, and boy, did she lord it over me because of it. Especially in her expensive heels and her sleek stewardess uniform, with red lipstick on her pale lips and that hourglass figure of hers _and god damnit why did she have to be so attractive_? Ugh! She was _awful_! She never bloody left me alone on shifts and was _always_ finding all sorts of things I'd done wrong and making me feel _stupid_. Really, I didn't know what her bloody problem was!

A smile toyed at her lips; she looked amused. " _Tiens, tiens_ …. it seems we'll be working together again."

"Don't think I'm happy about that," I told her, having long since abandoned any attempt to be at all polite to her.

She looked me up and down like there was something wrong with my uniform. "See you on board," she told me in a voice that said, 'I can't wait to make your life _miserable_ ' and then she sashayed away like she thought she was the _Queen of sodding Britain_.

I wanted to _throw_ something at her. If I wasn't at work, I might have. Why did people like that exist?!

Well, that did it; so much for my 'good luck'! Even with the lovely weather and having Morrison as my captain, there was _no way_ this flight was going to be anything except bloody _miserable_. It wasn't like I could call in sick, though: I'd been desperate to fly this damn plane since it was announced three years ago.

I would just have to find a way to make sure this Amélie woman didn't _ruin_ it for me.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Speed run, written in 72 minutes.

Morrison was waiting to board with me. There was a big media circus just outside security and we needed to smile for cameras and walk around shaking posh people’s hands for what felt like hours before they _finally_ let us onto the plane and into the cockpit.

The cockpit itself looked much the same as the 445, but everything looked brand-bloody-new and had been polished to a high shine. It felt like a museum exhibit rather than a real live working cockpit that  _i_ was going to work in! I was just sitting in the co-pilot’s seat and orienting myself to the changes in layout I’d seen in the demo (which I’d watched so many times I could quote word-for-word), when Morrison tapped me on the shoulder. “Hey, kid, what do you think you’re doing?”

I was thick and completely fell for it. Certain I’d done something horribly wrong, I was staring up at him, absolutely mortified, as he said, “You’re in the wrong seat,” with a grin.

B-But this was where the co-pilot’s seat was in the 445, and the demo didn’t say anything about moving the co-pilot’s chair to—

He was _grinning._ I suddenly realised what that grin meant; there were only two seats in here. Oh! “I can sit in the _captain_ ’s seat?!”

“I know how much you’ve been wanting to fly this thing,” he told me. “So fly it, Captain.” He saluted me.

I may have accidentally jumped right out of my chair and quite literally bounced about the cockpit before giving him a big bear hug. “I won’t crash it! Promise!”

He laughed, patting my back. He was quite used to me by now. “I think it would take a lot of skill _to_ crash this baby,” he told me as I let him go. “Just make sure you give all the walking wallets we have on board a smooth flight that doesn’t spill their thousand-dollar champagnes.”

“Aye-aye!” I said, giving him a little salute back.

While he went to double-check something with ground staff, I surveyed _my_ cabin with a big grin on my face until my eyes rested on the most important seat in this whole glorious creation.

The captain’s seat.

Butterflies in my stomach, I walked over to it and put my hand on the high headrest. I was about to _sit_ in this thing, an in an A448! Piloting my first commercial flight in an A448 felt like losing my virginity to a bloody movie star or something. I could hardly believe it!

I slowly lowered myself into it and put my hands on the control wheel. Out the window, I could see enormous crowds of people all gathered about the airport to watch the maiden flight; _my_ maiden flight. They’d all be watching as the wheels left the ground for the first time and this beautiful plane _soared_ through the air at my hands. Honestly, I felt bloody brilliant; the only thing that was missing was a crown on my head.

“May I check your boarding pass?” a very dry voice in a very French accent said from behind me. “I think perhaps you are in the wrong seat.”

My mood immediately soured: Amélie! “You’re not supposed to be in here!” I twisted in my seat to glare at her.

She was in here, though, leaning heavily on one of those full hips with her arms crossed. Silhouetted against the open door of the cockpit, she looked a sinister mix of horribly evil and incredibly bloody sexy. She knew it, too. “It seems we’re both somewhere we’re not supposed to be, then,” she said. “I suggest you return to your allocated seat for take-off.”

Ugh. “Well, I suggest you _get stuffed_ ,” I told her flatly. “I actually mean that. You’re not allowed in the cockpit.”

She took one full step closer to me, raising her eyebrows in challenge. “What are you going to do, chérie? Call security?” Just to illustrate how ridiculous that would sound to them, she batted her eyelashes innocently and asked in a faux-professional voice, “I really am to disturb you, _First Officer_ , would you like tea while you’re waiting for the captain to return?”

I wouldn’t like _anything_ from her, especially while she was deliberately trying to get on my nerves, and I opened my mouth to tell her exactly that as rudely as possible, but then another shadow appeared behind her.

“Hello, Amélie!” That was Morrison’s voice; he sounded… _pleased to see her?_ What on…?

He _knew_ this monster?

He apparently did, because just to hammer than point home, he put a hand on her back and gave her the double-cheek kiss French people did when they knew each other really well. “What a blast from the past it is to have _you_ on board! I don’t know about Oxton, but I’ll grab some black coffee if you’re offering. Oxton’s going to captain this thing today, and I bet she’ll fly so smoothly I’ll fall asleep without some caffeine.”

She smiled cordially at him, glancing at me. “It would be my pleasure to bring some to you,” she said. “I’m sorry to hear you won’t be our captain today. I feel so safe when you are flying us.”

I could have _gagged_. Why was she sucking up to him?

Morrison laughed. “Well, thanks for the compliment! But I trained Oxton here myself so you have nothing to worry about.” He looked at me. “Oxton! This is Amélie Lacroix—she used to be married to my good old buddy Gérard before the accident, we all flew together for _years_. She’s left Overwatch Aviation Society and defected to Talon, now, though.” He looked back at her. “Maybe we can tempt you back, eh? I know they’re looking for Service Managers at the moment...”

She worked for _Talon_? Our biggest competitor? What on earth was she doing here, then?!

She gave him a sickly sweet smile. “I’m happy with Talon, thank you,” she said. “I’m just here to help you since Overwatch so short-staffed at the moment...”

Morrison wasn’t having any of it.  “Just you wait, we’ll have you working for us again,” he told her, chuckling, and then looked her up and down again. “Well, this is a nice surprise!”

“It is,” she agreed, and then looked directly at me. “It’s a _pleasure_ to meet you, Ms. Oxton,” she said in such a saccharin tone that it almost sounded sarcastic. “I’m sure nothing will go wrong for you on your first flight.”

Morrison didn’t notice how insincere she sounded. He patted her back, laughed jovially, and then let her go make us our drinks.

I was still trying to process what I’d heard. It was a lot to think on. “You _know_ her.”

He sat in the co-pilot seat and oriented himself to the controls. “Know her? She used to be practically family, once! You’ve heard me talking about Gérard, right? We piloted planes together for years, he was a spectacular pilot. His wife—Amélie, the woman you just met—used to manage our service crew.”

I strained to remember what he’d said about Gérard. I wished I’d paid more attention. “Before that plane crash in Switzerland?”

Morrison sobered a little. “Yeah, before that: Overwatch’s one and only incident. I still can’t figure out what could have gone wrong, and Amélie can’t remember any of it.” He sighed heavily, and then changed the subject. “Anyway, that’s a bit of a bleak conversation for your maiden flight, right? We should be talking about what a great captain you’re going to make and the great things all of these rich and important people on board are going to say about you after you land!”

We went through the pre-flight safety checklist step-by-step—honestly, it was very similar to the 445—until we’d reached the last step with all green lights. I drew a tick in the last box and then sat back.

I took a nervous breath. “I think we’re ready.”

Morrison gave me a look. “Sorry, what was that, captain? You _think_?”

My stomach fluttered. “We _are_ ready,” I repeated more firmly, sitting up straight an clearing my throat. “Morrison, if you wouldn’t mind please checking the cockpit lock and then sending the all-clear to ground control and crew.”

“Yes, sir, Captain,” he told me with another grin, and then got on the comm to do that while I looked at my own mic. I’d _dreamt_ of doing this. I was practically _bubbling_ with excitement as I picked it up, and after Morrison had finished his transmission, he gave me a wide grin. “Go ahead, kid. Do the honours.”

Feeling like I was honestly about to _burst_ , I pressed the ‘live’ button. “ _Good morning, Everyone_!” I said, a bit disoriented by the feedback of my own voice I could hear in my headset. “ _This is your captain Lena Oxton speaking, and I’d like to welcome you on board for the maiden flight of the brand spanking new A448!_ ”

 

  

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
